


Ghosts That We Knew

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Character Death, Ghosts, Heavy Angst, I clearly have no soul, Major character death/deaths, Smut, Trans Character, Triggers, trans woman Armin, transgender armin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is hopelessly in love with trans woman Armin and they are engaged with their wedding date quickly approaching. A car accident rips them apart and Jean is left alone to face his "delusions". Sometimes it's like she never left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You saw my pain, washed out in the rain  
> And broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins  
> But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart  
> And you knelt beside, my hope torn apart  
> But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view.  
> -Mumford & Sons

“Armin, you’re so drunk.” A carefree giggle then a string of hiccups and another giggle. A caress of her thigh. The sounds of Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” playing on the radio.  
Jean looked over at his fiancé, she had black winged eyeliner, blush, and ruby lipstick on. Her outfit consisted of a pencil skirt, button down blouse, and a pair of strapback pumps.  
Armin had always been a very well dressed lady, always very classy. However when she was drunk, her class was tossed aside.  
Slumped over with her head pressed against the glass and her blonde hair hanging down in her eyes as she spoke. Or mumbled.  
Her words weren’t exactly words but they weren’t exactly gibberish either. 

 

“Ijust-love..yousomuch, Jean-ee” Armin sobbed out, hiccupping between words.

She always called him that when she was drunk. He glanced over at her, admiring her beautiful crystal blue eyes.  
He was always taken back by her surreal beauty.  
Her eyes looked like glass and her skin porcelain.  
Lingering in the moment and thinking about the beautiful girl he’d managed to snag, he slowed the Ford SUV to a halt at the stop sign. 

“Should have your seat belt on, baby girl.” Scolding her only to get an eye roll in response.

He’d taken her out to dinner for their anniversary.  
She’d had too much wine. As always.  
Ten years of almost relentless bliss. Sure they fought but they always made up.  
Usually their fights ended with Jean apologizing to her and begging her for forgiveness.  
He was very taken with her and he couldn't stand when she was upset with him.

 

Jean and Armin had been high school sweethearts, meeting in tenth grade pop culture class.  
She hadn't discovered herself as a female yet.  
He remembered her with her long blonde hair pulled up in a pony tail and her band tees and skinny jeans.  
She was breathtakingly peculiar. He remembered studying her for the entire class.  
Everything from the way she held her pencil in her left hand to the way she brushed her blonde bangs behind her ear only to have them fall back into her face.  
Instead of learning about silent films from Mr. Smith, he learned about how to stare at her cute butt without getting caught. Until the day that he did. That day changed his life forever. 

\-----------

 

“You’re not very sneaky, are you?” She pulled him out of his thoughts.

The bell rang and he’d not even noticed.  
She was hovering above his desk with a sly grin on her face and he couldn't pull his eyes away from hers.  
Her eyes glittered, vast and he saw galaxies in the pools of azure.  
They narrowed in annoyance when he didn't answer her right away.

“S’not my strongest attribute.” 

“I’m Armin, you probably already know that though…” Her arms clutched her books against her chest and how he wanted to be the one she was holding close.  
Even then, he thought she was beautiful. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard your name before. You’re the smart kid from the front row. M’ Jean.”  
He stood up and started towards the door. 

“Ah, yeah you’re Jean. The idiot from the back row. Our kind don’t mix well.” She teased, scrunching her little nose up and letting out the cutest giggle Jean had heard.

The rest was history. 

\-----------

 

He slid his hand over her leg and his overworked fingers caught on the fabric of her stocking as he did.  
She moaned out at his touch and laced her soft fingers around his hand, sliding it further into her thigh to caress the soft, pale skin.  
A needy moan escaped her lips as he let his fingers drag along the lace trim of her panties.  
His dress pants barely concealing his obvious excitement as he pulled his hand away and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.  
Soft gasps of air leaving his throat as he saw her slide her hand onto his thigh out of the corner of his eye.  
She started teasing him with her hand, squeezing his leg and massaging with her fingertips.  
Moving further up she palmed over his crotch and stroked his length with the fabric, earning soft whimpers from the man driving.  
Jean let his back connect with the back of the seat and rotated his hips into her hand. 

“Can’t wait to get home-…and fuck my sexy fiancé…” She cooed, mouthing over his neck and grazing his stubbled skin with her teeth, leaving a faint trail of red lipstick smudges against him. 

“Babe, you’re making it hard to drive, please sit down…” he practically moaned out, stopping at the sign and looking over at her with pleading eyes.  
His previous swerving must have been enough to convince the drunken girl that she needed to let him focus because she threw herself back into the sit with a quiet huff of protest. 

 

“Mfff, are wethere yet?” Armin grumbled, crossing her arms and returning to propping herself against the window.

“No, we’re still like fifteen minutes away from home.” He glanced over at her, his lips turning up in a warm smile.  
Every time he looked at her, he thought of how close they were to their wedding date.  
He was twenty six and she twenty four. Both ready to settle down but they’d had a lot of objection from her family.  
They refused to recognize her as a woman. “I’d rather my child be homosexual than confused.” they’d say.  
It absolutely killed her to know that her parents couldn’t support her.  
They’d disowned her as their child and while it hurt that they wouldn’t be present at the wedding, Armin knew it was time to seal the deal with Jean.  
They were practically married now anyway. They had a house together. A Corgi named Ginger. Jean teased Armin about her and Ginger both being so short. Armin never laughed. The dog didn’t seem amused either. 

“I’ve been thinking-” She stated, sounding the soberest she had the entire evening. 

“Oh yeah, what about?” Expecting her to say something riddled with her intoxication, he wasn’t really prepared for what she said next. 

 

“Think we should adopt a baby…Jean-ee” He nearly choked on the saliva that was pooled in his throat. 

She’d always wanted to have a baby but it was physically impossible for her.  
Sometimes he’d sit and hold her while she wept over the matter. He wanted nothing more than to give her the baby she always wanted.  
Sometimes she’d dress Ginger up. The dog even had a stroller.  
He saw the look she got in her eyes whenever she saw a pregnant woman. Or a baby.  
Armin wanted it so badly.  
And Jean wanted it too.  
More than anything. 

Glancing over at her, she had a determined look in her eyes.  
The look she got when she had her mind set on something.  
He knew that there was no arguing with her after that.  
Not that he’d want to fight with her over it.  
They were counting down the days until their wedding.  
It only made sense that they would finally start their family.

“I think that’s a good idea, babe…the wedding is in…”

“29 days. Yes I know, Jean-ee” Using her mocking tone and sticking her tongue out at him. 

God, she was breathtaking. He stopped at the stop light, taking the moment to look over his fiancé.  
The sputtering from the engine and the soft melody of Bon Iver on the radio breaking up the silence.  
Her eyes full of serenity, blissful peace from the alcohol working its way through her veins and damn it felt good to see her like this.  
Transitioning was hard on Armin, especially with her family criticizing her.  
Even when she was happy, there was that faint look of disdain in her eyes.  
She would cry sometimes, thinking he couldn’t hear her from his studio office.  
She’d harshly ridicule her own body because she wasn't happy with it.  
She wanted to be more feminine.  
No matter how much Jean told her that he loved her body, she couldn’t see why.  
He loved her no matter what her body looked like and she was beautiful inside and out.  
She was his everything. 

 

“JEAN!” Her screech pulled him back to reality and her small hand clutched his jacket frantically.

By the time he’d registered what was happening, it was too late.  
The sound of her now sober shriek and the crunching of glass and metal filled his ringing ears.  
Bright lights blinding him as he reached out for her, desperately trying to grasp at her and pull her to safety.  
Everything happened so fast and then there was nothing.  
His eyes hazed over and everything faded to black.  
The air bags had deployed and knocked him unconscious.

 

When he awoke, he saw faces…people hacking away at his car to pull them out.  
Their voices were urgent, the sound of sirens blaring as Jean blinked himself awake.  
At first he didn’t know where he was.  
Moving his stiff neck to the side and trying to pull out of the car but to no avail.  
The occurrences slowly came flooding back to him and he felt his heart crumble apart for the second time that evening. 

He didn’t hear her. 

He couldn’t see her.

Where was she?

 

“Pull him up!” He heard a man yell.

 

“Fuck, it’s not good!” Another voice. 

From the other side. Suddenly he was being pulled through where the windshield had been. 

Blood trickling down his face as he kicked his legs trying to find the ground.  
They tried to put him on the stretcher.  
Pushing himself off it to hear the rattling and then it crashed to the ground.  
They tried to subdue him once more but he managed to pull himself away and made his way to the side of his suv, limping and clutching his right arm with his left hand. 

Fuck it hurt. But he didn't care, he had to get to her.

“no…no…NO!”

 

Jean’s eyes widened in horror as he dropped down beside what was left of the passenger’s side of the vehicle.  
They had pulled her out and she was lying on a stretcher on the road.  
Her body crushed and limp.  
The skin on her left leg ripped almost completely off and she was covered in blood and bruises.  
Her eyes were shut and her blonde hair soaked in blood, it had dried onto her cheeks and forehead.

 

“Armin…” He whimpered out, dragging himself down to kiss her cold blue lips.

Frantically nuzzling against her, trying to wake her up.

“Get up! You have to get up!” He yelled, his tears falling onto the dried blood and diluting it. 

Grabbing her hand and pulling it to his mouth, he kissed over her knuckles.  
She was heavy, the weight pulling against him as he tried to pull her into his lap with one hand.

“I’ve got you, baby girl…I’ve got you.” 

 

The man behind him grabbed his shoulder, trying to coax him up and Jean didn't even hear what he said.

“FUCK OFF!” He yanked away from the paramedic, sobbing into her matted, dirty blonde hair.  
After a couple seconds he rested his head against her chest, desperately listening for a heartbeat.  
None.

She was gone. His girl was gone.

 

“I love you…I love you…” He repeated. Refusing to believe this was the end.  
“Son, please…get up, we need to get you to the hospital.” The man with a badge that read “Hannes” sounded genuinely concerned but Jean ignored him until he couldn’t anymore.

 

Before he knew it, a police officer was pulling him away from Armin’s body and walking him to the ambulance.

He looked over his shoulder, tears blinding his vision.  
He watched them bag her body.  
She was gone and it should have been him.

He should have been the one to die.

 

“He’s gone sir.”

Jean’s attention was ripped to another group of uniformed people.  
Another body bag.  
Another crushed vehicle.  
Another family torn apart.

But more importantly, the man that had killed Armin...Torn between anger and horror, Jean watched on half heartedly.

 

“We were gonna get married. She isn't gone. She isn't.” He mumbled to no one in particular.  
He could hear the paramedic beside him gasp in horror, nervously glancing down at his own wedding ring.  
Jean’s knees finally gave out and he started to tumble to the ground until the man caught him. 

“I know it hurts, just lie down on the stretcher…we've gotta get out of here.” His tone was calm and Jean complied, no more fight left in him.  
He let them load him into the ambulance and take him away from the only good he had in his life. 

 

Everything was over.

She was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A constant reminder of where I can find her  
> A light that might give up the way  
> Is all that I'm asking for  
> without her I'm lost  
> But my love, don't fade away.
> 
> ~Mumford & Sons

“We’re gathered here today to commemorate the life of Armin Arlert. He was-” 

 

She.

“We are very distraught over this tragic accident. Losing our only son was truly the hardest thing we have ever been through. Armin had always been-”  
Gripping the pew with both hands to keep from knocking someone out, Jean looked at his lap.  
The expensive suit he’d rented clinging loosely from his sore body.   
The accident had been a week ago and he was still in so much pain. Mentally and physically.   
They tried to talk him into grief counseling but he couldn’t do it.   
Couldn’t do anything anymore.   
Jean tried to hang himself.  
But couldn’t even do that.   
He couldn’t come to terms with his reality. 

 

“We loved him despite his many…problems.”

Her.  
Her.  
Her.  
Jean repeated in his head.

Armin’s mother had never been a supportive woman but you’d think that she would respect her dead daughter.

“He will be forever missed and loved by his entire family and his /partner/ Jean. His father would like to say a couple things.”   
She, he mentally corrected as he mouthed the word.  
It was so simple.  
Her.  
Why couldn’t they say it?  
Armin would be so upset right now.   
‘Armin, if you’re seeing this right now…I love you. I’m so sorry, baby girl.’ 

 

Armin’s family hadn’t spoken to her in years.   
They disowned her when she came out as female.   
They were very set in their ways.  
It was hard enough to have a homosexual son let alone a delusional son on top of that.  
Her “problems” were invalid and imaginary in their opinions.  
Yet here they were shouting out their love yous and begging for pity.   
Jean had been the only person there for Armin when she was going through her dysphoria and when she was suicidal.   
She had a very sad time and her family didn’t care.  
But now they cared…now that they got attention for her death.  
Jean couldn’t even listen to them talk. He didn’t want to hear it. 

 

Shuffling down the aisle, the old man from the back row came forward.  
Stopping to pat Jean on the back as he went continued to move towards the front of the church.   
He was old.   
85 and still hobbling around.  
Armin and Jean had visited him every month, sneaking him in sweets and milkshakes so that his nurse didn’t know.   
George was a kind hearted man and Armin really looked up to him.

 

The old man took a couple seconds to catch his breath.  
Clutching his chest and looking around at all of the people.  
A disgusted look on his face until he got to Jean.   
A light hearted smile and a wave to the distraught male towards the back.  
And then he spoke.   
Her elderly grandpa.  
More understanding than the rest of her family combined. 

 

“I remember when Armin was little. /She/ was always so hyper. Wanted to be everywhere at the same time. I knew she would be successful when she grew up. I always knew she’d end up finding someone,”   
Stopping to point at Jean. He couldn’t help but smile.  
For the first time, his eyes moved away from the old man up front to look at the crowd.  
Horrified stares. Like they had wondered why they’d invited the “senile” old man.  
“that would bring out the greatness in her. I remember one memory from her childhood in particular. Armin was about 8 I think and I was babysitting her and she was back in her room for a little while so I went back to check on her. What I saw shocked me at first but then I realized that it was okay. Everything is okay. She was okay. ‘Papa, don’t I look pretty?’ She questioned. Of course I had no idea how to answer. She was wearing a pair of her mother’s heels. And just looking the mirror at herself. Her face covered in red lip stick…” 

he laughed, tears gleaming on his face. 

“But she looked so happy. So proud of herself. That’s when I knew. My grandson might have just been “experimenting” or “confused” like you assholes say but she wasn’t my grandson at all. My granddaughter was a beautiful girl with enough love and kindness to brighten anyone’s day. You people would know that if you had made an attempt to see her before this unfortunate event. I love her and I love her fiancé, Jean…They are two of the kindest people I have ever known. Bless them both…I love them both and to hell with the lot of ya.” 

 

Jean stood up, slowly limping towards the stage with tears streaming down his face.   
Occasionally letting a sob slip from his lips.  
The church was filled with silence.   
Deafening silence.  
He could hear their thoughts of protest.  
When he got to George, he hugged him tight and cried onto the short man’s shoulder. 

“Easy son,” he whispered, hugging him back. “I know you loved her. I know…”  
George was resting his head on the tall male’s chest, crying as well.   
They stayed that way for a couple seconds before Jean pulled away to look into his eyes.   
“Say what you need, then get the hell out of here…this isn’t want she would have wanted. Let go.”   
He nodded, holding Jean’s hand for a couple seconds before releasing him and shuffling off the stage, where his nurse grabbed his hand and helped him back to his seat.   
Poor girl, his nurse didn’t know how to take any of this. 

 

Staring at the microphone for a couple seconds, Jean felt the anger boiling in his chest.   
He picked it up, staring at all of the familiar strangers.   
Looking into their very souls, their arrogant and selfish souls. 

Fuck them all. 

 

“Armin was the best thing to happen to me.” He stated, staring directly at her mother and father. 

“I thank you for that. For her…She was beautiful and I’m not good with words nor am I a religious man. Which is why you probably didn’t ask me to give a speech about my dead fiancé at her funeral. We were…”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he continued.   
“The wedding was twenty two days from today…and god I don’t know what I’m going to do that day. But I do know that I love her and I always will and whatever you’re doing here today isn’t what she would have wanted. You’re all wrong. This is wrong…you put ‘beloved son’ on her tombstone, you ignorant pieces of shit. I wish that I would have had the authority to take over this…all of it. The doctors say I was lucky to have survived the accident with relatively nothing more than a scratch. But..was I lucky? I lost the love of my life. I lost my girl.”   
Swallowing hard he balled his fists.   
If they had been married, it would have been one thing but Armin’s parents still had the rights to prepare her funeral.  
Instead she’d be buried with the one word she’d been trying to rid from her life.   
Son.   
At that moment, he felt pressure on his back.  
Warmth.   
Like a hand.  
‘I’m here’ he heard in his head.   
Not now.  
No.   
Goosebumps spread over his skin and the tiny hairs on his arms stood up.  
The room was cold.   
“You didn’t deserve a daughter that was as loving and bright as Armin.” He snarled, letting the microphone roll off of the podium and onto the ground with a loud thud as he quickly left the stage, walking awkwardly down the silent aisle.   
He didn’t look at anyone until he got to George, nodding at him.  
Throwing the church door open, he wandered into the bright sun.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where do you think we’ll be five years from now?” She questioned, looking over at him as she licked around the dripping ice cream cone.

“Like…where will we live? Dunno…” He replied, taking a drag of the joint pressed between his lips. 

“No you dumby. You think we’ll be married yet?” She laughed, shoving him playfully.   
He tumbled slightly but caught himself on the cold wood of the picnic table they were sitting on.  
Late nights like this, they met up after their parents were asleep.   
17 with nothing better to do than get high and make out. 

 

“Maybe…If you don’t kill me first.” He teased back, taking another drag off of the joint and holding it out to her. 

“Nah, I got mine.” She smirked, holding the ice cream up.  
He laughed. She was such a good girl.   
Inhaling again, he pulled her in for a kiss.  
She let out a surprised squeak and laced her free arm around his neck.  
Melting into the kiss she let her tongue slide into his mouth as he pressed himself up against her small figure, letting the hand that wasn’t holding the joint slide up her thigh.  
When they pulled apart, she blew the smoke out of her mouth as he dipped down and licked her ice cream cone.   
She giggled in response, gripping his leather jacket to pull him forward and kissed the tip of his nose.

“You’re a bad boy Jean Kirschtein.” 

She whispered matter of factly and wavered her finger. 

“But you’re my bad boy.”

“Maybe you should punish me, Armin Arlert.” 

\-----------------------------------------------

Jean rested his head on the steering wheel of the rental car outside of the church.   
Sobbing.  
He’d been there for an hour at least.   
He’d watched the people leave the church and get in their cars to follow the hearse to her burial plot. Jean stayed…he couldn’t stand to go see that.   
A knock on the window.  
Eren and Mikasa.  
He rolled the window down and looked up at them, his nose running as much as his eyes.   
Red rings around his sunken in eyes. 

“We told you not to do this to yourself, Jean…” Mikasa scolded, moving Eren out of the way to open the door and bend down to his level.  
It was good to see her.   
She’d been touring Germany with her fiancé Annie and had flown back when she heard about Armin. 

 

“Had to…I had to at least try. For her.” Eren and Mikasa flat out refused to attend anything with her family.   
Jean couldn’t blame them.   
Her family hated them all. 

 

“C’mon get in the back, we’ve got a surprise for you…” Eren muttered, he wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions but he was hurting too.   
They had all been so close.   
Eren and Mikasa were basically Armin’s brother and sister and in turn they had grown to love Jean too. 

 

He was marrying their princess. 

 

Without questioning them, Jean moved to the back seat and let Mikasa drive.   
There was a lot of silence, an occasional sob from Jean to which Eren would turn and squeeze his hand.   
Jean looked out the window to notice that they were in his driveway. 

Armin and Jean lived in a small rustic cabin on the outskirts of town.   
An acre of land and a barn for Armin’s horse, Banshee.  
She was a fat white mare that Armin had insisted on rescuing from a horse sanctuary.   
Of course Jean could never tell Armin no.   
So they got a horse.  
Taking Jean’s hand, Mikasa led him towards the fence and walked along it.

To the willow tree. 

 

“It isn’t much, but we thought it would be a better way to remember her than the grave her family had for her…” Eren cut in, stopping in front of a small marble stone that was settled into the ground under the willow tree.  
Armin loved the tree, they’d spend many nights sitting under the tree just talking or sometimes making love.  
The tree had their initials carved into it.  
AA+Jk.  
‘Double A and Just Kidding’ Armin would always say.   
The inside joke made him want to cry now. 

 

“Armin Arlert, beloved friend and wife….” Jean read, cupping his mouth with his hand.   
The tears fell more than they had been before.   
“November 3rd, 1990-June 11th, 2015.”   
He fanned himself, his face instantly contorting so that the pain he was feeling inside was obvious.   
“oh god…I love her so much…Where is she?” He sobbed out, turning to Mikasa and Eren who just watched him.

Surprisingly Eren was the first to move to his side, pulling him into a tight hug and holding him while he continued to sob.   
The question didn’t even make sense but damn did it hurt.

 

“How could she do this to me! How could she leave me? I can’t live without her. I can’t.”  
Pulling away from Eren he turned back to the stone.   
Falling to his knees in front of it, he just stared at it. 

 

“That’s not all, Jean...here.” Eren bent down beside the hysterical man and pulled a tiny box out of his pocket to reveal two shiny wedding bands.   
One plain white gold and the other adorned with small diamonds around the band.  
“You asked us to cancel them…we paid them off and had the jeweler engrave the inside of the bands…” Jean’s mouth opened and a squeak escaped, sniffling he gently picked up the wedding band meant to be Armin’s.   
“Gone but never forgotten”

This was too much, he’d never be able to thank these two enough for this.  
He started to speak but stopped, setting the diamond encrusted band down and picked up his band. 

“Always by your side”. 

 

“Eren…Mikasa, thank you /so/ much…” he swallowed hard, sliding the band onto his ring finger and gently closing Armin’s ring in the box and settled it into his pocket.   
Standing up, Jean hugged both of them and pressed a kiss to Mikasa’s cheek.   
He loved them both so much and they were the only people other than George that understood what he was going through right now. 

 

“Let’s say goodbye…” Mikasa started, wiping a tear from her eye as well as her black eyeliner stained her face.

“Armin was a good girl, her and I had been friends since grade school…She helped Mikasa keep me out of trouble. I’m gonna keep this short…because oh god,”  
Jean had never seen Eren cry so much. “I can’t think about you without crying. I loved you like a sister and I wanted to see you walk down the aisle /so/ bad….I wanted to be beside Horseface when he kissed you for the first time as a married man. I wanted to dance with you at your wedding. Dammit, Armin, why did you leave us?” 

Eren stepped back and Mikasa stepped forward. 

 

“I too loved you like a sister, Ar. You were always there for me when I needed you. I know I had been busy with Annie in Germany but I missed you every day. I missed you more than I missed Eren.”   
She laughed through the tears, barely holding herself together. Jean and Eren wrapped their arms around her.  
“You were so happy, so bright. I’d give anything to see your beautiful smile again. I love you, beautiful. Rest easy.”  
The usually soft spoken girl was now sobbing against her brother’s chest. 

 

That left Jean. 

“We’ll give you your privacy…” Eren muttered, walking Mikasa back to the car. 

 

Jean sat down next to the stone, staring down at it.

“God I don’t even know what to say…I kinda indirectly yelled at your parents…Don’t be mad at me baby girl.   
I couldn’t stand listening to them talk like they-” He rubbed over the ring on his finger.   
“Like they knew who you were…like they had any clue what missing you felt like. I love you so much and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the rest of my life without you. God it hurts just thinking about it…I know you wouldn’t want me to kill myself but I’d be lying if I said the though hadn’t crossed my mind.”  
Silence.   
Jean stared at his hands.  
Why couldn’t it have been him? He looked up at Banshee who was staring at him from her pasture.   
“Banshee misses you…Fuck, everyone misses you. Your grandpa misses you. I’ll have to keep taking him his milkshakes. Eren and Mikasa are so great…I’m so glad that they did this for me…for us. Now I can come talk to you when it gets to be too much for me to handle. I love you baby girl.” Jean leaned down to kiss the tombstone. It was warm. Oddly enough, it was warm and not cold. “I remember how much you loved when I’d sing to you so…I can sing to you before I go…”  
He sniffled and choked on the lump in his throat before starting to sing.  
It was scratchy and pained but he did it. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,”

Her smile and blue eyes.

The way she snored in her sleep.

“You make me happy when skies are grey,” 

Her terrible cooking.

Her golden blonde hair. 

“You never know dear, how much I love you,”

The way her mouth would hang open when she put her mascara on. 

The way she’d sigh out his name when they’d make love. 

“Please don’t take my sunshine away…”

He was hopelessly in love with her and she was gone. 

 

“I’m right here…” His eyes widened and the familiar warmth from before was on the center of his back. 

He turned slowly over his shoulder. 

Those beautiful blue eyes. 

“Armin…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Please review, I'd love to hear feedback on this! :))  
> Chapter 3 coming out soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause I know my weakness, know my voice  
> And I'll believe in grace and choice  
> And I know perhaps my heart is fast  
> But I'll be born without a mask.  
> ~Mumford & Sons

“On a scale of 1-10 how much physical pain are you in?” 

“12.” 

“I see.” 

“Internal or external pain?” 

“Both.” 

“Can you tell me what hurts, Mr. Kirschtein?” 

“Everything.” 

“I can’t help you unless you can generalize it. It says in your file that you’ve just started seeing a psychiatrist. Are you being treated for depression?” 

“No.”

‘Just give me the fucking pain medicine.’ He thinks but doesn’t say. 

“I think it would help. I can talk to your psychiatrist about an anti depressant. You seem very troubled and I worry about your mental stability.” Of course he does. 

“No.” 

“Alright, I can’t force you but I think it would be best for you. Jean, how often do you contemplate hurting yourself?” Generic question.

“Yes.” Generic answer.

“I’m sorry. Do you ever think about suicide?” It’s not real to him. It’s just his job, the doctor wouldn’t care if he did think about it or he didn’t. 

“Yes.” 

He scribbles in his notepad. It’s easy to imagine what he’d be writing. Suicidal. Problem. Bat shit fucking crazy. 

“One a scale of 1-10, how likely do you think you would be to follow through with your thoughts?” 10.

“1.”

“That’s…a relief.” A relief. A joke. 

The waiting room smells of rubber and a Febreeze knock off that he assumed would say something like “Fresh mountain morning” or some shit.   
All Jean wanted was to get out of the building and get his prescription filled.   
His entire body ached and he just wanted to be in bed lying down with the bottle of Jack he’d bought.  
The doctor had finally caved and prescribed him Vicodin, even if he couldn’t pick out a specific part of his body that hurt.  
It’d been three days since the funeral and it still didn’t feel real.   
You just need time, they’d say.  
All wounds heal with time.  
God will be looking over you.  
Pray to your lord.

Fuck no.

If God was looking out for people, then where was he when Armin needed him?  
Where was he when the other guy decided to get drunk and plowed into their car?

He was so sick of hearing people say “I’m sorry for your loss.” Or “we’ll miss her/him.”  
Depending on whom it was that said it.  
The people that said him were in danger of getting punched.   
He’d always been furious when people misgendered her but now it was unbearable.  
Respect her; she isn’t here to stand up for herself. 

 

Opening the door, Jean was greeted with the salty Miami air and the bright sun.  
Immediately pulling the shades down over his eyes to block it out, he walked towards his friend’s car.  
He hadn’t seen Eren or Mikasa since the funeral.   
Mikasa flew back to Germany to be with Annie and Eren was handling the whole situation in his own way.   
He’d tried calling a couple times but Jean didn’t answer.   
Couldn’t stand being around anyone right now.

 

“Damn man, I thought you were never coming out. And you look like they performed a lobotomy while you were in there.” Fucking Connie.   
What a douche but even at a time like this knew how to make a guy smile.

 

“Shut up.” 

 

“Where to now, Jean boy?” Connie lit up a cigarette, holding the pack out to Jean who declined. 

“Those things will kill ya.” Jean muttered ironically, pulling a pack out of his pocket.

“You don’t smoke.” 

“Do now.” Lighting it and gently pulling his stiff body into the metal deathtrap that Connie called a car. 

 

____________________

“Stand by Me” playing on the radio in Jean’s impala, the sound of rain pelting down on his car and the swish of wiper blades drowned out her giggles.   
He was driving her home but they’d decided to get sidetracked on the way home.   
She was leaning against the passenger side door with her bare feet in his lap.   
Her pedicure painted a soft lavender color to match her manicure.   
He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other lazily massaging over her soft feet.  
Jean would occasionally glance over at her and when he would she’d let the pad of her foot press against his crotch as a cruel tease.   
To which he’d meet this action by gently tracing over the bottom of her foot with his finger, causing her to giggle. 

 

“Pull over, baby. Been staring at you all night.” She popped her gum and slid her feet back, throwing off the velvet plum pea coat she had been wearing to reveal her top which she slowly unbuttoned and slid off of her shoulders.

Jean looked at the road nervously, trying desperately to find a clearing to pull over and when he glanced back up she was in a black lace bralette and her layered skirt only. 

“Oh god,” He muttered, feeling the bulge in his pants become drastically more noticeable.   
The hunt for a place to park eventually become a lot more pressing and he found himself caring less and less who would see the parked car.   
Eventually settling on a private drive, Jean pulled the car over and shut the lights off.  
Instantly a petite hand was palming over his jeans, fumbling with the buttons and her lips were on his.  
She was warm and the way she hummed against his mouth sent a tingling sensation throughout his entire body.  
Jean had never been so emotionally wrapped up in a girl in his entire life.   
Armin was different.

 

“How bad do you want me?” She cooed, her lips moving to his neck to bite and suck on the skin.   
It wasn’t until now that he realized her gum was in his mouth. 

“Bad.” It was sharp and demanding, the word fought through a moan.  
She sensed the urgency though, quickly busying both hands with unbuttoning his jeans.   
Once she’d released him from the restraints of his boxers she stroked one of her hands over his length. It was a force of habit, she knew that he’d soon become bored with the touching and want more.   
Jean was always begging for more. 

“So quiet.” She mumbled against his neck, kissing and licking over the spots where she’d bitten.   
The stubble tickled against her soft, moisturized skin.

“I like hearing you…” As if on command, Jean let out the moan that was caught in his throat. 

 

“More-” He demanded, her lips coming to his cheek to press a soft kiss before she lowered herself.

 

Licking along his throbbing erection to earn a full body shutter and a gasp of air which he almost choked on, she glanced up with a deviant look in her eyes.  
Armin lay across the console and arched her back upward in the most comfortable position possible.   
She licked over the head of his cock where precum had already gathered. 

 

“Fuck, Ar…” Biting his lower lip until a tinge of blood gathered under his tooth.   
Working her hand on the base of his shaft as she crammed as much of him into her small mouth as she could, taking him deep in her throat.  
Bobbing up and down with her mouth she hummed softly against him, after a few minutes her throat became numb.  
When the saliva would pool in her mouth she’d keep his cock in her throat to swallow it down, making the man practically scream out of pleasure.  
Jean was at a loss for words, occasionally letting a “fuck” or “shit” slip past the moans.  
He clutched the cracked leather seat with one hand and cupped her ass with the other, intermittently squeezing or giving her a soft spank.   
After awhile the hand clutching the seat moved to the back of her head, tangling his fingers into the blonde locks and tugging gently. 

 

“I-I’m gonna cum…” he growled out, rolling his hips upwards so that he was thrusting into her mouth.  
Sometimes she would stop all together, making him finish himself off.   
Jean thought it was cruel but seeing him desperate was one of her kinks.   
This time was different however; she picked up her pace to the point where she would occasionally choke on him.  
He didn’t warn her any further when he felt the knot twisting in his gut, letting himself spiral into an orchestra of weepy cries.   
Shooting ribbons into her throat she almost immediately tensed up, swallowing him down.  
It took him several seconds to collect himself.  
As he did, Armin moved back into her seat and lit a cigarette. 

 

“Wait…do you want me to-” 

“No.” 

She looked over and he could see her smirk when the moonlight hit her face.   
The flicker from the lighter brought his head back to reality from his high.  
They’d been together for three years and she still wouldn't let him touch her.   
Get her off.   
They’d not had sex yet, only hand jobs and blow jobs.  
Jean understood her discontent but he wanted her to be comfortable with him.  
To know that he didn’t care what body parts she had.   
She was still his girl and nothing would ever change that.   
But he wouldn't push it, she would tell him when she was ready.  
Armin was strong.  
Pulling his jeans back up, he looked over at her.   
She only smoked after they fooled around.  
He hadn't figured out why yet. 

 

“Those things will kill ya.”

 

__________________________

 

Jean looked out the window, noticing the neon sign outside of the car before he turned nervously to Connie. 

“I can’t.” Jean whispered, clenching his fists.

“You can. You will. It’s been six months since you’ve come drinking with Reiner and me. This used to be our thing. Every fucking Wednesday. And you stopped coming man.”   
He stopped coming because he was busy planning a wedding and working.  
Not because he didn’t want to see them.   
He loved hanging out with the guys. 

 

“I just wanna go home and rest.” Jean was frantic now, the thought of being around people scared him.   
He couldn’t handle that so soon.   
Couldn’t trust anyone.   
Didn’t want to do this.

 

“Jean, I’m not an idiot. I saw the bottle at your house when I picked you up. I know you were gonna go home and drink and its better if you’re here with us. Where we can support you. You don’t have to be alone in this.”   
Jean wanted to protest but before he could Connie was already outside of the car. 

 

 

“Long time, no see man…” Reiner stood up and Jean thought he was going to give him a handshake or one of those manly half hugs.  
But Reiner held his arms out wide and pulled Jean into the tightest bear hug he’d ever felt, pulling him close against his chest and rocked back and forth with him.

“I’m sorry man. It isn’t fair…Ar was great. We’ll all miss her.” He was sincere and warm and Jean couldn’t help but relax into his touch.   
For once, he wasn’t angry.   
But the feeling didn’t last long.

 

“Thanks…” Sitting at the bar, Connie ordered him a drink and he sipped at it.  
Listening to them talk; he realized how much he’d missed.  
Sasha was pregnant.  
Bert and Reiner had moved in together.   
Connie had gotten a promotion.   
Reiner wanted to propose. 

For the past six months, his life had revolved around Armin and their wedding.   
The void hurt.   
He had everything and then nothing.   
He sloshed the drink in the glass before swallowing it down. 

“Jean, you could come to a party at my place this weekend. Marco’s gonna be there. I know you guys used to be close friends…I’m sure he’d love to hear from-”

“No.” Marco and Jean had been best friends in high school and they worked together for awhile.  
Marco had developed feeling for him and Jean couldn’t return them.   
He’d never think of anyone the way he thought about her.   
Reiner didn’t push the matter anymore.

Connie could sense his unease and after one drink, he took Jean home.

 

He was a burden.   
A useless mess.   
The shallow remains of the man he used to be.

 

As soon as Jean got home the little dog was at his feet.   
Whining and looking for his mama.  
She’d called herself mama to the dog.   
Ginger wanted her and she wasn’t there.  
For some reason it hurt Jean, she was like a whiny baby searching for her mother.

“Sorry Ginger…she’s-” dead.   
He couldn’t say it.   
He didn’t even want to believe it.   
She couldn’t be.   
She wasn’t gone.   
The look the dog was giving him hurt worst than anything.   
He could get rid of her.   
Fuck, he wanted to.  
She reminded him of Armin but he knew at the same time she was all he had left of her.   
Armin wouldn’t want him to get rid of her baby. 

Entering the kitchen long enough to grab the unopened bottle of Jack off of the counter and feed Ginger then made a bee line for his bedroom.

 

The bedroom was so cold without her.   
So empty.  
The bed felt too big.   
The sheets were scratchy.  
The lights Armin had strung up to create a warm glow now pissed him off.   
He ripped them down. He flipped all of the pictures face down.   
Her clothes?   
He shoved them in the closet.  
Her shoes, he threw into the spare bedroom.  
Rid the room of any reminders of her.   
Yet, she was still there.  
Always there. 

 

Twisting the cap, it fell to the floor.   
A metal ting on the hard wood floors.   
Swallowing down the burning liquid as quick and hard as he could.   
He needed the pain to go away.   
Fuck, it hurt so much.   
The prescription Connie had filled for him was ripped from his pocket and a handful of pills carelessly dumped into his hand and then swallowed. 

Testing his ability to walk, he stood.   
Approaching his mirror to look at them man before him.   
Scruffy.  
His eyes were sunken in.  
Clothes dirty.   
Hair straggly and greasy.  
He was a mess.   
Carefully drawing his hand back he punched the glass causing it to shatter into hundreds of pieces.   
Blood trickled over his knuckles.  
He laughed.  
The pain felt so good.  
A release from his inner pain.  
Pieces scattered all over the floor.   
It spoke to him.

 

Dragging his drunken, sad self back to the bed and collapsing down on it he stared up at the ceiling.  
It didn’t take long before he was crying, dramatically rolling back and forth on the bed and hugging a pillow close to his chest.  
If he shut his eyes and disconnected himself with reality he could pretend it was her.  
But it wasn’t.   
The feeling wasn’t even similar.   
She was curvy and warm.   
He’d give anything to tangle his fingers into her soft blonde hair. 

Very drunk and disgracefully aroused, Jean kicked his jeans off and slid his hand into his boxers to grab himself.   
He gave a few rough jerks, shutting his eyes and gasping out.   
A smaller hand on his, warm and delicate.  
Forcing his eyes open with a jerk, there she was.   
Sitting on top of him and he felt the pressure from her straddling his legs.

“Baby, I’m home. Did you miss me?” 

“Y-yes…” Swallowing hard, the tears stopped and he sniffled hard.   
In complete awe he watched her slide the boxers down to his ankles and grasp his erection.  
Giving him gentle and precise strokes that caused him to fall back onto the mattress, grunts and moans escaping his lips. 

“Like when I touch you?” She purred, lazily kissing over his hip bone as she continued to touch him. 

“Armin…yes, more...please.” he begged, she ignored.  
Jean thrusted his hips up into her hand, whining out lewdly between labored breaths.  
He was close already. 

“Cum for me, Jean.” Coaxing him to look at her, she licked her lips and it threw him over the edge.  
She was so perfect, so serene.   
Like a dream.  
His orgasm practically paralyzed him as he came hard onto his stomach, screaming out moans and curses. 

“Fuck, Armin…I love you, I love you.” He cried out. 

“Hold me…please.” Begging, he left his eyes squeeze shut.   
Afraid that when he opened them she would be gone again.   
The smoke, the smell of cigarette smoke filled the room and it felt like home.  
He reached out for her like a needy child, hoping that she’d fall against his chest and sleep on top of him like they’d done so many times before.   
But she never did.   
Opening his eyes, she was gone.   
The tears were back and it was hard to breath.  
His sore hand, covered in blood was brought to his chest where he felt for his own heartbeat.  
Oh how shallow it was.  
His cries of agony were drowned out by the rain hitting his window and the thunder clapping in the empty night sky.   
Jean knew he wouldn't survive the night like this.

 

‘One a scale of 1-10, how likely do you think you would be to follow through with your thoughts?’ 10.

__________________________

 

The old guitar propped in his lap, Jean sat before her strumming aimlessly at it.  
The rain was coming down obnoxiously hard so he had to pluck at the strings harder.  
They’d just moved into their house together and the living room was full of different boxes of their belongings.  
It hectic but it felt like home. 

 

“Look so beautiful when you do that babe…” She mused, watching him pluck out chords. “Play a song for me?” She requested, tugging at his sleeve with a quiet whine.  
She had a bottle of champagne sitting in her lap and they had been sipping at it all night and they were both a little buzzed. 

“Like what?” 

 

“Something that reminds you of me.” She scrunched her nose up, a grin on her face as she tipped the bottle up again.  
He stopped to think for a couple minutes before starting with a soothing chord, occasionally tapping on the wooden body of his guitar to give it a faux drum sound to go along with the guitar.  
And he sang.   
His voice soft and untrained but damn she loved the way he sounded. 

“When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we'll see…”

 

She watched in amazement, she recognized it from somewhere.   
Couldn’t place where but she knew it.   
It was a happy tune and it made her heart skip, especially since it was Jean. 

 

“No, I won't be afraid, Oh, I won't be afraid, Just as long as you stand, stand by me.” 

 

By now, he’d set the guitar down on the couch and held his hand out to her.

“Are we really gonna do this?” She teased, holding the bottle of cheap alcohol up. “You know how clumsy I am.” 

 

“No time like the present, sweetheart.” He gushed, looking at her with that adorable, dorky smile. “And I won’t let you fall.”  
She stood up and smoothed out her plaid flannel pajama pants and the loose fitting black off the shoulders hoodie she was wearing.  
She worried about her looks but to him, she was always beautiful.

“Promise you won’t?” She teased, pecking a kiss to his cheek. 

“I Promise.” 

He popped the cassette that had been laying on the mantle into the player and she giggled.  
God, her laugh was perfect. 

“Cassettes? I’m officially convinced I moved in with the biggest nerd alive. It’s called a cd. The 90’s called…” 

“Shut up.” He huffed, pressing play. 

The song that Jean had been playing was now filling the room.   
Only it didn’t sound as good to her.  
He made everything better. 

Nervously she stepped into his arms, standing on her toes so she could lace her arms around his neck and cup her hands together.   
He wrapped his arms around her waist protectively and leaned down to peck a kiss to her forehead as they swayed back and forth.   
Their movements were off beat and klutzy.  
Neither of them were good dancers and both of them had a little too much to drink.

“Sing to me…” Her soft eyes looking up at him hopefully and of course he obeyed. 

“So darling, darling…stand by me, oh stand by me” He sang along with the music.   
His cheeks were tinted red and it was obvious he was a little nervous.   
He rested their foreheads together and shut his eyes timidly.

“Oh stand, stand by me. Stand by me.”

“I love you. I love you…” She repeated, resting her head against his chest and moving her arms to wrap around his waist and squeeze him tight. “I love you, you fucking idiot. Stupid fool…” She muttered, a few tears sliding down her cheek.

“I hate the way you make me feel. You make me feel like some stupid girl in those stupid movies…Fuck you.” She sobbed out, holding him close.  
He grinned, he knew that she was scared of love and after the things she’d seen he didn’t blame her. 

“Stand by me, stand by me…” He finished with the song as they continued to sway along to the music, a smile on his face and a lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, you made me cry…you fucking better love me. And you broke your promise.”

“I did?” 

“You let me fall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review! I always welcome the criticism. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it's hard, the days just seem so dark  
> The moon, and the stars, are nothing without you  
> Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?  
> No words can explain, the way I'm missing you  
> The night, this emptiness, this hole that I'm inside  
> These tears, they tell their own story.  
> ~Sam Smith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long to update! I hope you like the new chapter ! :)

“Now give it more gas and gently let off the clutch at the same time, put her into first gear. Easy, easy, eas-”

“Shut up Jean I can do it.”  
She was sitting in the driver’s seat and Jean in the passenger’s seat and he was hanging on for dear life.   
She let out a frustrated groan as the car sputtered into a jerking halt. 

“You stalled it.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue?” She scoffed angrily, sitting back in the seat and crossing her arms angrily.  
“I’m done, can we go home now?”

“No, no, no. The 100th time is a charm they say.” He teased.   
She didn’t think it was funny or cute. 

“One more time then we’re going home and you’re ordering pizza.” 

“One more time, you’ve got this…” he gave her a supportive smile and braced himself for the rough jerk when she inevitably would stall out the engine.   
There’s a reason he did all of the driving he reminded himself. 

“Okay, clutch to the floor. Start the engine. Put it in first, foot on the gas, foot off the clutch and…”   
The car started to sputter but she caught it and it started into a slow pace going forward. 

“I’ll be damned…Keep up the speed, when you feel the resistance you put the clutch down and switch into second gear.”   
He watched her in amazement as she followed his orders.  
She was jerky and inexperienced but she was picking it up. 

“Jean look! I got it!” She laughed nervously, a huge grin on her face as she drove his car in circles in the abandoned parking lot. 

“One more gear. Get to third gear and we can go get pizza.”  
And she did it.   
Jean had been proud of her many times but this was one of those moments where his love for her was endless.   
She was making an initiative to learn how to do something he loved and he was lucky. 

“I did it!”   
“M’ proud, baby girl. Now put her in park and I’ll drive.”  
The car sputtered and jerked to a stop.  
Jean’s head almost hit the dash but after the initial shock they both laughed.  
There was a moment of silence and they just looked at each other with love in their eyes and excitement in their young hearts.

_________________________________________________

 

Life is a collection of moments and when it’s over, it’s over.   
There’s no second chance, no opportunity to right the wrongs.  
Jean couldn’t help but wonder if this is what she saw before she passed.  
He hoped that she saw the good moments.   
The days where they couldn’t get enough of each other.   
The moments that were full of love and the moments that no one could take away their happiness.   
Like the first time she’d ever been to a drive-in movie theater and then ended up making love to some movie he’d never known the title of.  
Or one of their first dates when she was shaking so bad that she spilled red wine on her top and had to wear his oversized Metallica t-shirt over her leggings.   
He hoped she’d seen these things.  
He hoped that she was free from the pain she felt or the insecurities she’d felt her entire life.   
Free from the self hate that plagued her.  
All he’d ever wanted for her was happiness. 

 

The pill bottle was so welcoming, the cap slid off easily and most of the pills fit in the palm of his hand.  
His hands shook and the bottle fell to the ground.  
Rolling them around in his hand, admiring them.  
How could something so small kill him?   
Something that was so easy to obtain would be his demise.   
Each one as identical as the other.   
Fumbling with the cap on the bottle he’d been drinking from, Jean let out an abrupt, ironic laugh.   
The very cure to his pain would end up being his demise.  
He’d be absolved from this world and hopefully see Armin again.  
He had to hope, that’s all he had left.  
Was returning to her.  
Popping them into his mouth one by one, the bitter taste from them sticking to his tongue as he washed each of them down his throat with a gulp of whiskey.   
Exactly twenty three pills later, his vision blurred.   
The overwhelming relief of a chemical induced euphoria long under way.   
His breaths becoming shallow and reserved as the room spun circles.  
The high didn’t last long, maybe fifteen minutes.

At once he was nothing and everything.   
He felt every emotion at the same time and he knew he had reached the top of the mountain for the slow tumble downward.  
Reflecting on this life, there wasn’t much he would have changed.   
Maybe he would have told himself at 15, it’s not the end of the world…she’ll come along soon enough.   
Or that one bad fight they got in last year…he would have told himself not to worry.  
She’d never cheat.  
One thing he would have done was not gotten behind the wheel with her that night.  
He would have kept her home and held her all night. 

“God why…” The tears started falling.   
She was in his every thought and memory.   
He was nothing without her and the end couldn’t come soon enough.   
It just needed to end. He started to feel himself slip down the slope.  
The nausea hit him almost instantly, causing him to curl into ball on the bed clutching his stomach as if that would do anything.   
He’d never imagined it would hurt this much.  
It was like he could feel his stomach being ripped apart as he lay there helplessly.   
The memory he wanted to remember most, replaying over and over again in his mind.   
If he could stop the pain he would.   
But he couldn’t let go, it’s like something was forcing him to hold on. 

 

And then, a bright light at the end of the tunnel came as a quick relief. 

 

__________________

 

The floral print maxi dress she was wearing clung to her body loosely as they made their way down the pier.   
His arm slouched around her slim waist as he looked at the ground, desperately clutching the small box in his pocket.  
He could feel the sweat pooling in the palm of his hand around it.   
Jean had finally worked up the courage to ask her to marry him and he was nervous to say the least.  
Biting his lips nervously, he glanced down at her then to her feet as the salmon colored wedges made hollow thuds against the wood. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dear.” She muttered, looking up at him and they locked eye contact.   
Everything was okay for a second before he felt the fear of rejection wash over him. 

“Just a cool evening, that’s all.”

“Baby, its seventy degrees. We live in Miami, it’s never cold.” She wrapped her arms around him to hug him close as they walked towards the end.   
The sunset coming into view over the crowded boardwalk.   
People bustling about with their loved ones.  
It wasn’t until then that he realized how thick her southern accent was.   
But yet, it was soft and quiet.   
She wasn’t a loud girl, rather reserved most of the time.   
Unless she was angry or orgasming.

 

“I know, stop picking on me, blondie…” Jean muttered with a quiet huff.  
Looking down at her with his usual rough around the edges expression.   
He tried to look tough, all she did was giggle. 

“Well if you’re so cold, take my jacket.”   
And he thought she was joking until her arms disconnected from him and she tossed the jean jacket onto his left shoulder.  
It was much too small for him and rather large on her.  
Patting him on the back, she grabbed his collar to drag him to her level and kissed his cheek softly.   
Instinctively, her left leg went to the air and damn did she look gorgeous.   
Without a word, Jean smiled and tossed the jean jacket back over her shoulders and she threw it back on. 

 

“Such a gentleman.” She taunted, walking briskly towards the end of the pier and cupped the railing with her small hands.   
“Just look at it Jean!” She looked absolutely amazed by the ocean.  
The orange sunset touching the water and it seemed to go on forever.   
They came to see the sunset often, just off of 18th street where they could get the best view.   
Yet she still seemed so spellbound by it.   
The mystery, the freedom that it portrayed.   
All she ever wanted was freedom. 

 

“I see it…its water.” He muttered, unamused.  
They’d lived in Florida their entire lives and he wasn’t impressed by the scenery anymore.  
Standing beside her, he held onto her protectively as if she’d fall in.

“Don’t you just wanna go exploring in it? We should go scuba diving someday!” 

“You can take Eren…you know how I feel about the ocean.” 

“Oh Jean! The sharks aren’t gonna bother you none. You know how many people get killed by sharks?” 

“Too damn many?” He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Oh you hush.” It was time. 

“Armin, do you believe in love at first sight?” She giggled quietly and glanced up at him. 

“Of course I don’t. Did you know that in a study only eleven percent of-” Breathing out a sigh, Jean looked at the ground in frustration.   
“besides if I believed in love at first sight, do ya think I’d be playin’ with you? You couldn’t stop staring at my butt the first time we met, baby.” She teased, scrunching up her nose.   
He rolled his eyes in response and gave her his usual pout.  
He’d perfected it really.  
They both had, really. 

 

“Oh honey…” She muttered, looking up at him.  
She had noticed how stressed out he was.  
It didn’t take her long to piece together what was going on.   
He always did have a hard time surprising her.   
And she never could pretend to be shocked.  
Knowing what was coming, a tear slid down her cheek.   
“Oh my god-” Her hand clasped over her mouth and she watched him fall to his knees. 

 

“Yes…” She muttered, now in tears. “A million times yes.” 

 

“But I never asked anything.” He laughed, a sob escaping his lips.

Bending at the knee, she pulled him up and wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed against his broad chest.  
Tears staining his t-shirt as they held each other and cried. 

“You don’t have to. I know you better than you know yourself, Jean Kirschtein.” She mumbled against his chest. 

“You always see right through me…our friends are gonna ask how romantic I was and you’re not gonna be able to answer because you never let me ask you to be my wife, Armin.” 

“Armin Kirschtein has a nice ring to it doesn’t it?” 

“Armin…” He mumbled, trying to get her attention but it was clear that she was off in her own world.

“I don’t know what color of dress to pick, it’s obvious that neither of us are virgins…you think that we should-”

“Armin.”

“Who am I gonna pick for bridesmaids?! Obviously Mikki…oh! And Annie-”

“Armin!”

That got her attention, a warm blush creeped onto her cheeks and her eyes softened. 

“Shut up and kiss me you stupid fool.”

“You haven’t even…” He started to pull the box out of his pocket.

“I’ve already said yes haven’t I? You could have a damn cock ring in there and I would still be tickled. Kiss me.” 

And he did. 

Her hands yanked him down to her level by his tie so that they could tangle into his messy locks of ash blonde hair as his hands rested firmly on her hips.   
When it came to Armin, it was game over for Jean.  
She was everything he’d hope to find in a wife.  
And she’d said yes.   
This was finally happening.  
After a month of looking for the perfect ring, she hadn’t even seen it and she’d said yes.  
Pulling away, she wiped the red lipstick from the corner of his mouth and smiled up at him. 

 

“Alright, I can’t wait any longer. I wanna see my ring.” She giggled, holding her finger out as Jean shakily dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small black, velvety box.  
Opening it to reveal a dainty white gold ring that was encrusted with diamonds, one larger diamond resting in the middle.  
Taking it from the box, he looked at it for a second before slowly sliding it into her ring finger. 

“Looks so much better on you…” He admired the way her face lit up as she held her hand out in front of her and hopped up and down, squealing happily.  
“I take it you like it…” he smiled as she flung herself into his arms.   
Spinning around a couple times before setting her back down against the boardwalk to hear a soft thud from her shoes. 

“Oh Jean Alexander Kirschtein, I love you.” 

 

“I love you too, Armin Milana Kirschtein.” 

___________________________________________

 

Gagging as he let out a loud gasp, he looked at the picture frame facing downward on the nightstand.   
Picking it up, he instantly regretted it.  
It was a picture of Armin and him in their kitchen.   
It was one of those days you think you’ll live multiple times over the span of your life.   
He wanted to make a million more memories with her but it wasn’t going to happen.  
She was fucking gone and all he could do was lay on the floor and wallow in his own misery.  
All he could do was sit here and hate himself. Hope for death. It wasn’t coming as quick as he’d wanted.  
Slamming the picture back down to hear a quiet snap as the glass frame shattered, he tried to pull himself up but fell to the ground. 

 

“This isn’t what I fucking wanted…” He screamed, whipping the empty bottle of jack towards the door to hear it smash too.  
Glass shards currently covering most of the floor. 

“I wanted to fucking marry you. I wanted to wake up to you kicking me in the back every fucking morning. And go to the beach with you. Fuck! I hated the beach… And take you on that stupid expensive fucking cruise you wanted to go on. I wanted to buy a star and name it after you. I wanted to cook you chocolate chip pancakes every morning and have a glass of wine before bed every night with you. I wanted to make love to you until we were both sore. I wanted to adopt a kid with you…and grow old with you. Most of all I wanted you to fucking stay.” He cried out, loud cries breaking his words and most of it was incoherent speech.   
Probably he was the only one that could understand what he was saying. 

“With me…Why’d you do this? Why…oh god I love you so fucking much it hurts. I can’t close my eyes without seeing your face.” He screamed, his words slurred and broken as he felt the energy leaving his body. 

His chest rising and falling painfully, he knew his time was up. 

 

“Don’t let go…Don’t give up” A small pair of hands on his.   
She was cold and pale, for a second he believed that she was actually there. 

 

“Armin…” He whimpered, he wanted her to be there more than anything. 

But she wasn’t.

“don’t leave me….don’t go.” 

____________________________

 

“Fuck you Jean!” 

Tears streaming down her cheeks as she slammed the front door and ran to his Camaro in her bare feet, throwing open the driver’s side door and getting in.  
Lock the doors.

“Armin,” he hollered from the porch before walking toward the car to knock on the glass.  
“What the fuck, unlock the door…”  
Start the engine.   
“Don’t you dare fucking drive my car anywhere, you hear me!?” 

She didn’t speak, throwing the car in reverse and ripped into the street.   
First gear.   
She barely knew how to drive stick but damn she was trying.   
After everything they’d been through, this is how he repaid her.  
It all started with a text message from another girl.  
Easy the clutch out, second gear.  
He’d been texting another girl and the first message contained the simplest clue in a spiraling downfall of her trust in him.  
A winkie face.  
A fucking emoticon had started this.   
Armin had kept track of the messages between Jean and this mystery girl listed in his phone as “Casey”.   
The next time she checked, he had pictures from her.  
She was topless. 

She was crazy for ever trusting this asshole.  
Why would he want her when he could have a girl that didn’t have to take pills to make her more feminine?   
Why would he want her when he could have a girl that didn’t have a dick?  
A girl that would have sex with him like he’d been so patiently waiting for.  
They were twenty two and she still hadn’t slept with him, relying on blowjobs and handjobs to keep him happy.  
She would take care of herself in the bathroom afterwards.  
While she knew that he loved her and had no problem with her body, she couldn’t let him see her so vulnerable yet.  
No matter how badly she wanted him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to expect him to be okay with not getting laid, especially with how high of a sex drive he had.  
She was angry at Jean but more angry at herself.   
Why couldn’t she just be normal and let him love her the way he so desperately wanted to.   
This was her fault. 

Her phone went off and she looked down to check the number, Jean.   
Looking back up, to see a dog in the street.  
She wasn’t going to hit an animal so she swerved and caught a telephone pole.   
Cutting the engine, she turned off the car and got out to assess the damage.   
She’d just barely hit it but there was still a pretty bad dent. His beloved car now had a smashed front bumper.   
The incident sobering her actions, she breathed out a heavy sigh.   
This was stupid, where was she even going?

“Fuck.” A look of defeat in her eyes, she got back in and turned the car around to drive home.  
Mentally bracing herself for his wrath, she pulled into the driveway.   
He was sitting on the front step, his head held in his hands and when he looked up his eyes went immediately to the damage done to his car.  
Wincing when she noticed his eyes were puffy and red from crying.   
But when his eyes met hers he didn’t look mad, he looked relieved.   
Practically sprinting to the door, he opened it and pulled her into a tight hug to which she fell loosely into.  
Not putting any effort into hugging him back. 

“Your car.”

“I don’t care about that. Are you hurt?” 

“No…you-” She started, sobs erupting from her lips instead of words.  
Instead of trying to finish her sentence she cried against his chest, gripping his shirt to keep herself from falling even though his arms were firmly wrapped around her. 

“What’s wrong, Armin?” He muttered, letting his hands run through her soft blonde hair as he waited for a response.  
Armin was normally so calm and collected, they rarely ever fought and when they did it was nothing like this.  
It was usually a quick shouting match that turned into a heated make out session.

“You cheated…” He drew back, looking at her in shock.  
“Casey, I saw the pictures. Don’t play stupid! I’m no fool.”   
Backing away from her enough to slip the phone out of his pocket, he turned the screen so that she could read it.   
The girl had come onto him and he’d turned her down.   
Instantly regretting her actions, she clung to him and continued to sob onto his shoulder.

“Oh god Jean, I’m so sorry…” 

 

“No I’m sorry Armin…I meant to tell you, I just didn’t know how to bring something like this up. I didn’t catch on at first but you know how oblivious I am. We just moved in together, you really think I’d do something like that to you?”  
He had tears streaming down his cheek.   
He could have lost her just now.  
She could have wrecked the car and been gone.  
Just like that. 

“Don’t ever take off on me like that again…I was so worried.”

 

“You’re just mad about your car.” She teased, trying to lighten the mood but he was insistent.

Holding her tighter as if she would fade away if he let go. 

“No. I could have lost you and I can’t handle the thought of that.” 

____________________

“Oh god Jean!” 

 

“Armin-”

 

“Jean it’s me…don’t fucking die on me.” 

It’s not Armin.

Jean’s mood automatically drops and his eyes roll shut as he losing the ability to do anything other than listen.  
He’s conscious enough to hear but nothing else.   
Trying to reach for whoever is carrying him. 

“We’re gonna get you help, just hold on…don’t give up.”   
All he knows is that it isn’t Armin and he no longer has any fight left.  
He slips into the silent darkness of his mind.  
Everything is so warm, calming even.  
He can finally relax and he’s free from the painful swelling in his chest that he’s felt ever since the accident.  
It doesn’t even occur to him that its Eren picking him up off of the floor but he doesn’t really care at this point. 

The fight is over.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 will be out soon, please read and review! I appreciate any and all feedback/support.  
> :))


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